


Living with Faith

by JustADreamForUs



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Drama & Romance, Drarry, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Good Draco Malfoy, Humor, M/M, Multi, Powerful Harry, Sexual Tension, Teenage Drama, Veela Draco Malfoy, Winged Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-05-16
Packaged: 2018-09-27 00:57:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9943073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustADreamForUs/pseuds/JustADreamForUs
Summary: 8thyear! VeelaAU! Draco is torn: to be the boy he was brought up to be, or to be the veela he was born to be? It's complicated enough with Harry as his mate, but fighting his inner battles are worse. Never taught to give, but born to provide. Never taught compassion, but born to be kind. This is his journey as he struggles with the gift of love, teaching even Harry what it truly means.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everybody! This is cross-posted onto my FF.net account (in case it looks familiar) and I hope all of you love reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Because I procrastinate a lot, am entering University and frequently run into writer's block, I don't update very often. HOWEVER, I will never abandon my story and it'll just take time to write out my plots and flesh out my characters. I hope you give me a chance in the mean time by reading, commenting and following this story <3 PS: I may upgrade this to explicit in the later chapters *cough*

** Prologue **

****

Draco had dreamt of this day. He had dreamt of peace, of freedom, of being able to live. He had fought for survival, crawled his way through dirt, mucked up the family name to stay alive and breathing. Even now, his claws were out scrabbling in disbelief that he was here with both his father and mother. But in all of his days spent in fear and wishful thinking, _this_ had never been one of them.

 

Draco stared silently at the long sweeping wings that sprouted from his back. They were an iridescent pearl grey, a colour lighter than his eyes, but glimmered in different shades and hues when light struck them differently. His mind was still trying to play catch up on what in merlin’s name was happening to him, his own eyes staring blankly at the mirror. When it finally did, Draco made a noise that sounded like a dying whale as he breathed out a vulgarity, hands clutching at the sink.

 

“Fuck…” Draco hissed, bringing a hand to pull at his fringe, the harsh tug on his hair similar to his mind pulling him back into reality. This was not good, and Draco knew it. Creature inheritance usually occurred when said person reached maturity at seventeen. And for veelas, the wings spent their entire time growing inside the body until the witch or wizard was seventeen. But Draco was eighteen. It had been eight months after the battle of Hogwarts, and yet only now did he get his wings. When he hadn’t received them while still in the presence of Voldermort, Draco had thought he was lucky, and that the veela gene had skipped his generation again.

 

He was wrong.

 

“Draco dear? What’s wrong?” His mother’s voice echoes from behind the bathroom door, and Draco swears lightly as he realises that the house elves must have notified her that he had been stuck inside for close to an hour.

 

“Mother, I… It seems that I may have received my creature inheritance a year late.” Draco finally answers, eyes downcast as he slowly pulls open the bathroom door, revealing his folded wings. Narcissa’s eyes widened, her mouth forming an ‘O’ as she stared at the grey wings that seemed to have miraculously appeared overnight. Mother and son gazed at each other before Narcissa took a step forward, hand reaching out to touch Draco’s wings to ensure it was real. Draco’s shudder was all Narcissa needed as she swept to the doorway of his bedroom.

 

“Lucius, we _may_ have a _slight_ predicament!”

 

Slight? Draco bit his lip. If he told his mother and father about the _other_ downside of his creature inheritance, bloody hell it wasn’t going to remain slight. The soft steps of his father were soon heard, the man having served six months in Azkaban, and having to spend the remaining eight years under house arrest. It was a merciful sentence, partially due to the fact the elder Malfoy was hardly called on for duty and hadn’t had a wand. It was sheer luck and risk which none of the Malfoys ever wanted to experience again, and Lucius’ expression softened as he took in his son’s worried expression.

 

“Not a predicament Narcissa. In fact, it’s going to be fine. Come Draco, we’ll talk about this together.” Smiling softly at his son, Lucius gently steered him by his shoulders, Narcissa following, patting Draco’s cheek reassuringly. For all their pure blood ideals, there was one thing the Malfoys held in higher regard, and that was family. To care, to protect, to kill if necessary. And even the wizarding world couldn’t overlook that one saving grace in their parole. It also helped that Harry Potter had graciously stood up for them, and this time, the elder Malfoy was determined to get it right.

 

“Draco, you are a very special person, and not because you have wizarding blood flowing in you. Nor is it because you bear the Malfoy name. You are highly intellectual, shrewd beyond comparison, and being a veela is just an added quality to it.” Narcissa whispered, squeezing her son’s hand as they sat down in the living room of the small cottage they had rented.

 

“The veela blood has ran in our families, both the Blacks and Malfoys for centuries. You are undoubtedly aware that at times these genes skip certain generations, and appear in others.” Lucius continued, pouring a glass of Sherry as he spoke.

 

“But I’m eighteen!” Draco protested shakily, falling silent as his father passed him the glass, frowning slightly at his outburst.

 

“Yes and I do have a probable theory for it. Your veela wings and aspects had fully developed last year. But because of all the added… _Pressure_ , putting it tactfully, your body withheld your inheritance.” Lucius took a small sip from his own glass before looking at his son calmly, “Your veela inheritance was ready, but _you,_ were not.”

 

Draco fell silent as he tried to process what this meant, even as his father continued speaking. If this was true, it meant that he had fully developed all of his veela characteristics last year.

 

“It is natural for you to experience certain emotions and to look at things with a different perspective.” Narcissa murmured softly, brushing her son’s fringe.

 

“Indeed, throughout last year you may have experienced events that threw you off guard. Your priorities may have shifted and instinct could have started influencing your decisions. The most common sign of the veela’s inheritance are the dreams of course.” Lucius spoke briskly, settling down beside Draco, refilling the empty glass.

 

“…Dreams? What kind of dreams?” Draco had paled, fingers digging into own palms as he stared at his father in dismay, Narcissa immediately running a soothing hand over his back.

 

“They mostly show veelas their mate. Certain distinct features that could help them in their search, although most veelas instinctively know and have usually met their mate beforehand. After which the veelas themselves would feel a pull on their baser instinct to be close or to protect their mate. It can be ignored of course, and would have been easily unnoticeable for you since your creature inheritance did not fully manifest.”

 

_Emerald eyes were warm and cajoling as Draco shirked away, eyes wide and fearful. He could feel the magical presence of the man before him, and it was strong enough that Draco could feel himself getting drunk on it. It was dangerous._

_Or at least it should have been, Draco thought as hands carded through his hair, and a soft whimper left his lips. Those very hands lifted him up, and he could feel warmth enveloping him as dry slightly chapped lips brushed his own. Letting out a whine because the darkness wouldn’t let him see this strange familiar man holding him, Draco could feel himself tearing up. Like a child throwing a tantrum due to the unfairness of it all, and a soft chuckle sounded at his ear._

_“I’ve got you Draco.”_

_And Draco froze as the darkness lifted, revealing a very familiar lightning shaped scar, and green eyes._

He had that dream repeatedly going on in his mind the entire time Voldermort had stayed in the Manor. Every night when he was frightened and grateful for being alive, Draco had gone to sleep with images of Potter taking care of him. Holding him close, and keeping him safe. Some nights it varied, and on particularly bad nights when Draco went to sleep shaking with silent tears running down his face, the Potter in his dreams had enveloped him in warm hugs and kissed him until he woke up with liquid fire running in his veins. Initially he had been disturbed at having such dreams about his arch nemesis, but as time passed, Draco secretly began to look forward to falling asleep. Because there he was safe, and there, with Potter’s warm hands, _no one_ , not even Voldermort could harm him.

 

_It’s him. It’s Potter. Draco feels sick as his aunt hisses into his ear to confirm if it is indeed Harry Potter, his father’s fear driving the elder to ask him to identify Potter properly. Even with his face stung badly, Draco knows he can recognise those green eyes anywhere. Right now they stared at him, anxious, but proud and guarded._

_What was he supposed to do? If he lied and the Dark Lord found out, his family would be facing a death sentence, and if lenient, an entire day of the cruciatus curse. But if he didn’t lie, they would hand over Potter to the Dark Lord, and that mere thought sent Draco’s insides lurching. They would kill Harry, **his Harry**. Something bubbled inside of him, hissing as he drowned in those emerald eyes, and all Draco could hear or think of in his mind was **no**. _

_Glancing at that familiar face once more, Draco stuttered out a soft, “I can’t be sure.” Before he breaks eye contact, hands trembling as he got up from kneeling. There’s anxiety roiling in his chest, snarling, and the fear is ten times more prominent than before. Potter, Harry escapes, and Draco doesn’t know to be happy or fearful._

_That night when he’s finally allowed to sleep after enduring the cruciatus curse, Harry is there, soft lips caressing all the cuts and bruises. He’s buried in Harry, Potter’s chest, sobbing softly as warm hands ran over all the bandages and bruises._

_“Thank you.” Harry breathes into his ear and Draco can’t help the delighted smile that breaks across his face, even as tears welled up in his eyes, every part of his body stinging from the torture._

“Draco? Draco dear?” Narcissa shook her son and watched through narrowed eyes as he choked, lips parting as his hands clutched at the glass, knuckles white.

 

It was Harry Potter. His mate was Harry _fucking_ Potter. Did some deity up above or merlin himself find joy in making Draco’s life difficult? He could live knowing that he was obsessed with the other ever since he was a small child. He could live knowing he had a crush on the other throughout his time in Hogwarts. He could live knowing that Harry only loved him in dreams and nothing else. But to burn it into him with desire, need and magic to love, care, protect, and _sacrifice_ for?

 

“Oh dear… Who is it Draco? Who is it?” Narcissa whispered, hands reaching up to brush away the stray tear that had leaked out of her dear son’s eyes. Draco blinked, glancing up at his father’s impassive face, the anxious aura present, even with that cold mask on.

 

“It’s Potter.” Draco finally answered, voice muffled as he fell into his mother’s arms, tears flowing freely because _bloody fucking Harry Potter who he could never ever have_ -

 

**_Bloody fucking Harry Potter._ **


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New year, new start? What will the Golden trio do? Does Harry Potter undergo a sexuality awakening? Read on to find out! (Winks exaggeratedly like Rita Skeeter)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was so incredibly surprised at having some people enjoy this? But honestly my shitty posting skills and writing ability somehow draws people in and I'm just really grateful... You all are my precious children. I may also be high on "feels" so I'm not exactly sane and am currently acting like a cat person seeing a cat at last? Hope you guys enjoy it (also, double post so yay ignore my blabbering)

** Chapter One **

 

“I can’t believe Malfoy has the guts to return here.” Ron mumbled through his food, rolling his eyes as Hermione glared pointedly at him. They had returned for their eighth year at Hogwarts, and while most of the other houses had plenty of returning students, Slytherin had a grand count of only five that were in the same year as Harry. One of which, was Malfoy himself.

 

“I personally think it’s rather brave of him to hold such high esteem towards his education, and for apologising.” Hermione countered, frowning as she thought back to the headline apology Malfoy himself has stated to the press.

 

“Bet it was just so that Ferret face could salvage his family name.” Ron said in reply, letting out a loud burp as he patted his stomach, “Right Harry?”

 

“The war is over, and frankly speaking I’m tired of fighting. I’ve been looking over my shoulder the entire time I’ve been at Hogwarts and now all I want to do is study and enjoy my time here.” Harry held up his hand as Ron opened his mouth to speak, “ _Without_ , arguing with Malfoy.”

 

“Well that settles it.” Hermione finished primly, cutting across Ron, “We’ll just have to set the proper example of inter-house unity by being the first to go about it.”

 

“She can’t possibly be serious.” Ron choked out as Hermione got up from the table, looking at both boys pointedly.

 

“Sorry mate, but I agree with her for this one. We didn’t fight the war for another Voldermort to appear.” Harry reminds Ron gently and the other sobers up immediately, nodding his head in understanding before getting up, the shiny prefect badge glinting on his robes.

 

“But if he’s still a git,” Ron paused, “Can I punch him?”

 

The resounding no from both his best friends were all he needed to remind him of the seriousness of this situation. Following Hermione, Ron sighed as they made their way to the Snakes’ breakfast table. Hogwarts was still under repair, but last night they had witnessed the sorting ceremony, and went back to their dorms. The castle had magically adjusted for another set of beds for the eighth years, and today was the official start of their curriculum.

 

“Pansy, Daphne, Blaise, Theo, Draco. Do you mind if we join you?” Hermione cuts to the chase as five pair of tired wary eyes gaze up at her.

 

“By all means.” Theo finally answers, waving his hand as if he couldn’t care less. Ron’s eyes narrowed as the Slytherins shifted closer, bodily speaking their thoughts on what they thought of the Gryffindors joining their table. Before the war, Ron would have gone on a rampage on them being snooty arrogant people that didn’t wish to socialise with others they deemed of a ‘lower class’. But now, he thought grimly, he could recognise fear when he saw it.

 

But of course, being Harry, the blundering idiot couldn’t see anything. Instead, the saviour of the wizarding world turned his gaze to Malfoy and spoke in the most cordial tone anyone had ever heard to his rival, saying, “Morning Malfoy.”

 

The silence in the Great Hall was astounding as all four houses watched with trepidation. Draco was frozen as he looked at Harry, his eyes wide at the friendly tone. He could feel Pansy’s fingers digging into his thigh and the sharp intake of breath from Blaise. Before the war, he wasn’t all that close to Blaise, Theo or Daphne. But times had changed, and they could only rely on each other; not to mention for some strange reason all of them were _such immense saps_. Draco had won them over with his veela story without even breaking into tears; which was a relief for a boy like him with such pride and yet in such need of support. His heart was fluttering in his chest, and he was struggling to find his voice, to speak against the brilliant smile Harry was giving him. As the silence dragged on, Harry’s blinding smile faded and he shifted uneasily, and Draco felt his insides fall in horror at the thought of making Harry think his presence was unwanted.

 

“Hi!” Draco finally blurted out before turning pink, flushing all the way to the tips of his ears for sounding like a _total blithering idiot_. Underneath the table, Pansy’s hand patted his thigh soothingly and Blaise cleared his throat, continuing the conversation easily with a simple, “What can we do for you?”

 

“The war is over now, and it’s a new start. I think it’s important that we act like role models for the future students and teach them about inter-house unity.” Hermione explains as Ron nods his head, expression without disdain or hatred. There’s silence from the Slytherins, and Harry knows the entire school is watching, before Blaise speaks up, sharing a look with Daphne.

 

“I think that is wonderful. And I’m sure my Housemates agree with you, if I may call you Hermione and Ronald?”

 

“Just Ron is fine. No need for formalities.” Ron cuts across hastily, giving Blaise a tentative smile which the other returns widely. At that expression of truce, the tension somewhat lessens, and the entire school returns to their breakfast activities, noise picking up again.

 

“You’re awfully silent about this.” Harry finally speaks, and Draco’s head snaps up, grey eyes wide as he realises that Harry’s gaze is fixed, focused on him. Over the months, Harry had gotten rid of his glasses, and that made his emerald gaze ten times more intense as Draco without thinking shrank back from the stare. It didn’t help that before coming to Hogwarts Draco had spent every waking minute drilling and preparing himself for being completely rejected by Potter. Not on the receiving end of his interest, and yet here he was.

 

“Draco, are you scared of me?” Harry finally whispers, eyes wide as he stares at the trembling blonde, having cast a quick muffliato. Blaise stiffens and Ron is about to smack his head against the table because of all times that Harry _had to be oblivious_ -

 

“A-A little.” Draco swallows, fingers clutching at the table, avoiding Harry’s gaze. The fear was eating him whole and Draco thought he would burst from anxiety. His thoughts were too incoherent and all that attitude he used to have was gone, nothing but affection and calmness. No snark, nothing. His wings were waiting, eager to flick open and everything was hurting. Hurting beautifully for what he could never have. Abruptly standing up, Draco’s hand knocked into his pumpkin juice as he grabbed his book, stuffing it back into his satchel.

 

“Draco-!!”

 

“He needs to go.” Blaise cuts across, his smile forced as the other Slytherins stand simultaneously.

 

“It’s nothing personal, he hasn’t been feeling well since last night.” Pansy continues, resting a firm hand on Draco’s shoulder before steering the other away, “Come on Draco.” The latter hesitates, gaze downcast as it flickers once to Harry before all five of them flee, albeit elegantly, out of the Great Hall.

 

“Did he just admit to being frightened of you?” Ron looked at Harry bewilderedly, “And what was with that lack of an attitude?”

 

“Draco looked like he wanted to run away, and Harry didn’t do anything.” Hermione frowned, tilting her head in question at Harry.

 

“I don’t know why he’s acting like this,” Harry clenched his hands, feeling sick to the core, “but I don’t like it. **_Not, one, bit._** ”


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ron is going to kill Harry Potter. And Pansy Parkinson is going to slit his throat. How are they scarier than Voldermort, he has no idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double postings ftw! Thank you for tolerating my terrible posting timetable/schedule. I should be a more reliable author but I'm not so I apologise. Severely. But I love all of you, and I hope this builds up nicely! Muah, love you my darlings~

** Chapter Two **

 

“Draco? Draco honey are you okay?” Pansy’s words are loud and hush, whispering in his ears worriedly as he stalks out of the Great Hall. Everything was so _wrong_ , Draco thought, eyes filling with tears at the harsh tug and ache in his chest. Every instinct was telling him to turn back, and just like he had in the holidays, Draco pushed back those emotions, beating it back because _he didn’t deserve him_. Not Potter, not his Harry. His Harry deserved the moon and the stars. He deserved someone who had only seen light and happiness. Who could show him all the goodness in the world and remain untainted. Draco was only worthy of air and phantom touches in his dreams.

 

“Malfoy, you’re not getting anywhere with that kind of an attitude with Potter. Unless you did that to garner his interest.” Theo said sternly, pushing Draco’s shoulder that has the other looking up at him wide eyed and nervous. It was unlike the Slytherin prince’s usual cold stares and sharp tongue; it sent a wave of need to coddle Draco, seeing him in this vulnerable state.

 

“Draco, that behaviour in the Hall is bound to send Potter curious. You didn’t snark at him. Not even once.” Daphne continues gently as the five gather in a secluded corridor, blocking Draco from view as he crumpled onto the floor.

 

“Greengrass, it isn’t that I don’t want to.” Draco swallowed, fingers twisting into the fabric of his robes, “But I can’t. I can’t look at him, and say mean things to him. It goes against my very nature to hurt him, and-” Draco broke off, chest heaving as he remembered what had happened in the manor, his heart sinking at this sudden realisation.

 

“Draco…?”

 

“When I was at the manor,” Draco whispered, fingers lacing and unlacing as he spoke, “Harry, Potter had been captured by snatchers.” There was a sharp intake of breath from the people around him and Draco shuddered at what he was going to tell them, “I knew it was him, and I lied. Refused to identify him and that got me an entire day of the cruciatus curse.” The silence that greeted him had Draco laughing bitterly, tears pricking at his eyes.

 

“Don’t you see? I can’t hurt him. I _revolve_ around him. My inheritance made me give my heart away to him trusting he won’t break it. But he will, he will he will he wi-”

 

“Malfoy, that isn’t going to happen.” Blaise snapped, and Draco blinked, head lifting up to look at the other in shock. Feeling calmer now that he had the other’s attention, Blaise softened his tone, eyes becoming kinder as he gazed at the tormented veela in front of him.

 

“We’re not asking you to hurt him. But have some backbone when you talk to him. You’re not just some nobody or one of his fangirls. You’re _Draco Malfoy_ , the boy who made all the wrong choices because you were stuck in a mad house with a raving lunatic called Voldermort. You’re strong, smart and you’ve been through enough that puts you, in my opinion, on equal footing with the boy who lived twice.” Blaise finished firmly, crossing his arms as he glares at the veela who had miraculously became his good friend. Draco stopped, breathing a little quieter before standing, straightening his robes as he hesitantly looks at the five of his friends, _only_ friends.

 

“You’ll have my back?”

 

“Always.” Was the simultaneous reply that has the Slytherin prince chuckling, raking a hand through his blonde hair.

 

“I’m Draco Malfoy.” He murmured again, as though to remind himself that he was stronger than this, than what life threw at him.

 

“Right, let’s get to class.” Draco paused before looking at the five of them warningly, “And if you mention any of this to _anyone_ , I will deny it ever happened and hex you till tomorrow.”

 

Theo’s lips curved into a grin and Blaise let out a soft chuckle as Pansy and Daphne linked their arms around him, smiling brightly.

 

“Now,” Pansy breathed into his ear, hands tucked into his own arm, “ _That’s_ the Draco we love.”

 

Something was wrong with Malfoy. Harry knew it, and he was going to get to the bottom of it. But you can’t do that if he’s frightened of you can you? His subconscious said snidely to him and Harry groaned aloud, burying his face into the pillow in his common room. He had two hours before potions with the Slytherins started and frankly, he desperately wanted Malfoy to say something to him. Anything sharp, even condescending. _Anything_ to erase that fragile tempting image of the Slytherin boy.

 

After the Battle at Hogwarts, Harry had spent a long time tying up loose ends. Funerals, chasing after death eaters, being a witness in court, and of course, exploring his sexuality. Astonishingly enough, it hadn’t even been his own realisation. Rather Ginny had sat him down one night and asked him bluntly, if he was interested in men. Harry had spluttered for a good two to five minutes before finally caving in at Ginny’s deadpan look. She had been extremely calm about it, and Harry had assured her that she was indeed his _only girl_ for the rest of his life. And now with the entire Weasley clan eagerly introducing him to eligible bachelors day and night, Harry heavily regretted giving Ginny that position in his heart. Otherwise he could still blackmail her into keeping her mouth shut about whatever gay man that was single.

 

Harry hadn’t experimented since that realisation. It wasn’t that he didn’t try, but the men he dated just weren’t what he needed. They were too soft, or too domineering. After around six blind dates courtesy of the Weasleys, Harry had his ideal type settled down instantly. He needed someone sweet and gentle, willing to care for him and let him hold the reigns in the relationship. But on the other hand, he needed someone that had a backbone. Could bite him when he was too controlling and was independent and confident about himself. The person, Harry reasoned, that would be perfect for him would have to be someone that could walk the fine line between standing up for their own opinion, and compromising with Harry himself. After _that_ talk, Ginny had thrown a shoe at him, and said, Harry quoting her, “What kind of imbecile falls in love with contradictions?!”

 

But that wasn’t the point Harry was trying to make. The point Harry was trying to make was that he had potions with Slytherins in two hours, now one hour, and he _couldn’t get bloody fucking Draco Malfoy out of his head_! Which was strange because, when had Malfoy ever affected him in some way? His mind constantly drifted back to the blonde haired boy, and if Harry was being truthfully honest, he had grown _extremely_ attractive after escaping Voldermort’s clutches. Gone was that sullen frightened face and pale complexion. Instead, now the boy had a rosey glowing look about him, grey eyes softer and gentler. Whatever roughness that had built in Draco because of Voldermort had disappeared, the boy putting on more weight, looking more rounded around the edges and _so much more tempting_. The way Mal-Draco had looked at him, like a startled deer, and his voice without a sharp quality to it was doing strange things to Harry. It made him wonder what the other boy would be like if Harry cornered him against the wall and-

 

Well if he wasn’t gay before, he definitely was now.

 

 _Fuck_ , Ron was going to murder him.


	4. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What? Screw up a potion? Never! How could Harry Potter ever flunk Potions if he has the best potion maker in the cohort as his partner? *smirks*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. Just wow. I had no idea people genuinely loved my writing so much and just, all the comments make me tear up all the time! Lots of huggles for my lovely readers and I hope you guys like this chapter! Next Chapter is going to get a little.... Smokey if you know what I mean ;) ;) But till then, you'll just have to suffer with anticipation~ MUAHS!

** Chapter Three **

 

“And your partners for this term’s assignment would be with the opposing House. Once those five pairs are called, the rest of you are to find your own partners.” Professor Slughorn stated to the Gryffindors, smiling brightly. It was unfortunate that no one had his enthusiasm, as the five Slytherins shifted closer, wariness written all over their faces.

 

“The first pair, Hermione Granger and Pansy Parkinson.”

 

The two girls stood up, looking at each other in surprise before they met Professor Slughorn in the centre of the class. Listening carefully to his prepared speech on inter-house unity and how they were all in a _better place_ now, Pansy wanted to laugh aloud at her own head of house. He thought there was still going to be a battle in his classroom? How preposterous.

 

“It’s an honour Granger, to work with someone that finally has brains.” Pansy smirks, nudging Hermione that has the other girl jerking in shock before a similar smirk makes its way onto her face.

 

“Likewise Parkinson, likewise.” Both girls grin at each other before calmly making their way to a separate workbench. Somehow, the tension between both houses relaxes, and the Gryffindors’ stance are less crude and pointed.

 

“Neville Longbottom and Blaise Zabini.”

 

Oh Blaise was going to have a field day Draco thought, groaning aloud at the way the other boy was looking at Longbottom. Puberty had hit Longbottom like a truck and Blaise had always had a soft spot for good looking people. Draco rolled his eyes as Blaise sent Longbottom a winning smile which the other returned shyly. Inter-house lovers if Zabini gets his way; how brilliant.

 

“Ronald Weasely and Theodore Nott.”

 

“Pleasure.” Both boys simultaneously answer before shooting each other a sheepish grin. Ron clasped Theo’s shoulder, and Harry can hear the start of the conversation about Quidditch. Both boys would be fine.

 

“Daphne Greengrass and Parvati Patil.”

 

Both girls graciously stood up, Daphne offering a gentle smile to the other girl. Everyone had known about Lavender’s death, and a sharp comment at it would not just be suicidal but rude beyond measure. Daphne knew death after all, it permeated everywhere in families. A heartbreaker, and she linked arms with Parvati, whispering softly kind words that both of them needed.

 

“Ah finally, Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy.”

 

You’ve got to be _fucking kidding_. Harry thought, mouth growing dry as he realised that he actually had to get up and listen to Slughorn. For all his talk on inter-house unity, Harry knew he wasn’t actually ready for it. Or maybe, his subconscious sneered at him, you aren’t ready to look at Malfoy. Harry slapped away that thought and stood up, frowning as he walked to the centre of the classroom.

 

_No. No this couldn’t be happening_. Draco thought in dismay, chewing his bottom lip as Harry stood up, a slight frown on his face. That frown was enough to throw Draco off-kilter, his insides clawing and burning because _he isn’t happy, his mate doesn’t want his presence_. But was that surprising at all? Draco questioned himself as he forced himself to stand, to still his trembling hands. Blaise was right, everything he had been through had made his character. The lack of affection, the fear, the loss. None of it he could have changed or made different, and if all of these experiences that he couldn’t change turned his mate away, Draco clenched his hands as the pain wavered through his body; he would just have to live with it.

 

“Malfoy.”

 

He was not nothing. He had been thrown into darkness and survived, became a better person than what he had been brought up to be. He had seen the world with his own eyes, and he had a long way to go, but he deserved to stand with his head high. He was a Malfoy, a Malfoy who would change the very ideals that broke his family name.

 

He. Deserved. His. Pride.

 

“Potter.” Draco looked up, holding eye contact calmly as he spoke, hands trembling at his sides. Head held high, it was not a look of arrogance or anger. It was the grace of someone who had seen his mistakes, been tortured for all of it, and yet still stood against ocean currents. It was the pride of a fighter, and Harry felt his heart hammer with awe at the boy’s elegance.

 

“It’ll be a pleasure working with you.” Harry finally spoke, cutting the silence as he turned his vivid piercing eyes to Malfoy, watching as the boy momentarily shrunk back before straightening his back.

 

“Likewise.” Draco whispered, clearing his throat as he quickly turned away, unable to bear the heat of Harry’s emerald gaze. Those looks were reserved in his sleep, and Draco’s cheeks flushed as he remembered what that gaze had led to in his dreams. Briskly walking, Draco took the next available work bench and settled down, blatantly trying to ignore the heat Harry was giving off, and failing terribly.

 

“You… You’re looking well.” Harry wanted to groan aloud at what he had just said. Over the past few months he had endured a crash course on etiquette, having to attend so many functions, both good and bad. Whatever he had just said was as good as a punch in the face in terms of insensitivity and now all he had to do was wait for Malfoy to sock him in the face-

 

“I thought after all those functions your manners would have improved.” Draco tried to keep the laughter out of his voice, but he couldn’t. Not when his mate had presented him the opportunity with something Draco could tease, could _know_ about his mate. Harry’s surprised emerald eyes searched his and Draco felt himself flush, fighting the urge to look away. It must have been all those months spent in his dreams crying and clinging onto phantom Potter, seeking affection and protection that had made him like this Draco thought, chewing his bottom lip. Before, he would never be so docile, but now, now all he wanted was that powerful magical signature to wrap around him. Heal him. Funny how the one thing that kept him sane was driving him mental.

 

“Unfortunately, it hasn’t.” Harry finally said, chuckling lightly as he tousled his own hair. Malfoy’s voice had been borderline teasing, although it was obvious that the other had tried to mask it as an insult. For some strange reason, it felt good not to be fighting and to not hear any insults coming from the blonde’s pretty lips. You’re doing it again Harry, his subconscious crowed, your attraction to Malfoy is showing. Well, Harry fought back, silencing his subconscious, finding him attractive would probably make Malfoy flustered which was in this case, a winning situation for everyone.

 

“But you really do look better Malfoy. _Much_ better.” Draco fought back a whine at that emphasis, not quite sure if he was meant to hear it. That tone Harry had taken had sounded like the Harry from his dreams, approving, possessive and gentle. Fingers clutching at his satchel as he watched the Gryffindors scurry to find partners, Draco swallowed before answering, praying he could keep his sanity by the end of the lesson.

 

“You look better too Potter, especially without the glasses.” Fuck his soul, soon he’ll be waxing poetry about his mate’s evergreen eyes and they will be getting nowhere. Draco struggled to calm himself, not realising that Harry was looking at him through narrowed eyes, staring thoughtfully at him.

 

“Didn’t know you had a thing for green eyes Malfoy.”

 

“They remind me of gardens in the manor during Spring.” Looks like they were officially at the waxing poetry stage Draco groaned before continuing without thinking, “And if you tell anyone I said that, I _will_ hex you.”

 

“Aww, but we were getting on so wonderfully.” Harry teased and watched as the Slytherin raised one perfectly arched eyebrow at him before breaking out into a small laugh, looking away such that his blonde fringe fell over his grey eyes. Malfoy’s voice wasn’t derisive or degrading in any manner, and the way his body shirked back to hide was almost bashful and sweet. Harry wanted to groan aloud, of all bloody people he should be feeling attracted to, his traitorous body and mind had to choose Malfoy. But then again, Harry reluctantly gave way, he _had_ admitted that Malfoy _was_ good looking. In fact, the only reason he had such distaste for the boy was his arrogant prat-like nature. Remove that away and well, he was actually a darn fine bloke!

 

“Potter… Do you think we should start using our first names towards each other?” Draco tried to suggest in a cool undertone, only to inwardly scream as his voice came out small and hesitant. Draco wanted to blame everything on his veela genes, but he knew better. He knew that even if the veela gene was making him crave for his mate, it didn’t necessarily make him submissive. In fact, he was doing everything entirely on his own. He was craving a protector to hold him; his mate to touch and heal his broken soul. Fear had stripped him bare of his pride, his snark, his attitude, his values, no less some part of his family’s vault. Until now, he couldn’t bring it within himself to openly glower at anyone, be it uncomfortable or insulted. And he hated how vulnerable he had become.

 

“That would be great actually.” Harry paused, before shooting an easy smile at Malfoy- ah no, “ _Draco_.” Turning half way towards the blonde, Harry offered up his palm, grinning brightly, “Truce?”

 

He wanted to take it. Draco could feel the desire right to his very bones, rattling in him to just feel Harry’s warm coarse palm against his own. Merlin, everything was coming to him in large doses, intoxicating and driving him wild. It seemed as though the stars were shining on him, and the lady of fortune was feeling kind. But still Draco hesitated, the fear and anxiety niggling at him. Was this, _could_ this, be him getting his hopes up? Harry was addictive. He didn’t know if he could withstand or tolerate being close but not actually having… Worrying his lip, Draco finally settled for a small smirk.

 

“I can tell the wrong sort for myself thanks.”

 

At that sentence, Harry choked before he burst into laughter, eyes crinkling at the edges as he side-eyed Malfoy, shaking his head. Inwardly, Draco could feel his veela crow in delight, almost crooning at having been able to light Harry up inside out. Harry chuckled, feeling his lips quirk upwards at the spark of fiery passion in Mal-no, Draco’s eyes as the blonde stared back at him, sexily biting his lip- Wait a minute. _Wait. A. Minute_. Oh hell no Harry thought, almost groaning aloud; since when was Draco sexy?!

 

Ron was going to smother him in his sleep.

 

And Parkinson would probably help him bury Harry.

 

Well if he was going to die _again_ , he might as well make it worthwhile.

 

“I’m sure you can tell the wrong side for yourself. But hey, _everyone_ likes a rebel.” Winking at Draco, Harry smirked as the blonde jerked, appearing startled as grey eyes flared with surprise. The blush that immediately graced Draco’s ears was _adorable_ , even if it made Harry slightly alarmed to admit it, and he resolved to tease the Slytherin more often when the situation permitted him to do so.

 

“W-We should focus on our potions assignment!” Draco squeaked, unable to believe that Harry, Harry James _Potter_ of all people seemed to be flirting with him! And that wink, blazing green eyes framed by sooty lashes that closed in a teasing manner, hand raking through his mussed up hair-!! Enough, enough Draco chided himself. You are probably imagining things ever since he started appearing in your dreams Draco assured his brain, biting his lip as he opened up the pages of his potions textbook, long elegant fingers curling over the pages as he began flipping through them.

 

“You do know I’m pants at Potions right?”

 

At Harry’s dry voice interrupting his thoughts, Draco gave a non-committable hum, “Well yes, everyone can tell that you aren’t exactly the _brightest_ when it comes to Potions.” The words slipped from his lips before he could stop himself, the well-known Malfoy snark now mixed with humour that only his long term friends could detect. Without thinking Draco slapped a hand over his lips in dismay, eyes widening comically as he looked at Harry nervously.

 

By the Gods how could someone be so _adorable_ , Harry wanted to coddle Draco somewhere safe. Grey eyes wide in horror, perfectly manicured hands clamped over pink lips comically, back hunched over with his blonde fringe sweeping over his eyes? Harry was so gay for Malfoy. Draco. Just this _cuteness_ wrapped in sharp biting wrapping paper.

 

Astonishingly enough, the boy-who-lived started laughing _again_ , raising both arms in mock surrender, “You caught me there. The only reason why I obtained the Felix Felicis?” Looking around, Harry lowered his voice conspiringly, “It was because I had Snape’s old Potions textbook and it was filled with additional notes.” At his words, Draco dropped his textbook, eyes widening, “That’s positively cheating!” Harry was just shifting awkwardly in embarrassment when Draco sent him a wicked grin, “And _such_ a Slytherin move. Didn’t know you had it in you, _Potter_.”

 

“It’s _Harry_ remember? And what, is that a compliment from Draco Malfoy? No wait, I think it sounds like grudging acceptance after removing all that layers of snark. Or am I reading it wrongly even after all those functi-”

 

“Oh sod off.” Draco chuckled, looking back down shyly at his textbook even as his lips pulled into a delighted smile. Around them, students were quietly discussing on their potions, with some already telling Slughorn what they wished to research on. Flipping backwards, Draco finally nodded his head and settled on a page.

 

“Here, this potion should be easy enough for you that you wouldn’t botch it up.”

 

“… A love potion?” Harry looked up sceptically at Draco before folding his arms, “Like what, Amortentia?”

 

“Amor-” Draco stopped, taking in a deep breath before looking up at the ceiling in exasperation, “How, did, he, even, pass, OWLS?” Sighing and ignoring Harry’s baleful stare, Draco began to explain, going into full lecture mode.

 

“Traeh Serised originated from France in an attempt to help the Pure Blood community seek out compatible matches for marriage. Unlike Amortentia which is the strongest love potion in the world that makes the user seem obsessed with the person, Traeh Serised is actually a revealing potion. It forces the taker to face the qualities he wishes to have in a partner, or in some cases face the potential person he is most compatible with. Naturally, Pure Blood families were upset when they found that some of the most compatible partners were muggles and the potion was pulled from the shelves until the recent turn of the century.”

 

“Wait, you mean like the Mirror of Erised?” Harry questioned, brows furrowing while Draco slipped into a thoughtful musing.

 

“Well legend has it that the maker of this potion, also known as Ciel Luies was a romantic. He had a lover that rejected him for another out of wealth, as was expected in high society which led to him become bitter. Along with that came the creation of the Lovers Curse and a slew of spells that ended many couples. When Luies was on his deathbed, he bemoaned the fact that his potion Traeh Serised would not be able to help him atone for his crimes against couples blissfully in love, and thus commissioned a well-known German mirror maker to create the legendary Mirror of Erised.”

 

Not noticing Harry’s surprised and rapidly paling face, Draco sighed disappointedly, “Even so, all that is probably just a legend. The mirror’s existence was never found and there were hardly any records stating that any German mirror maker ever did accept that commission.” Draco paused, “I’m surprised you even know of the Mirror of Erised when you don’t even know about Traeh Serised.” Cocking his head thoughtfully, Draco gasped in mock surprise, “Have I _underestimated_ you Mr Potter?”

 

“I think _you_ over-estimate me.” Harry snorted, “I’ll tell you why I know about the Mirror of Erised some other time. Besides, lesson is ending in five minutes and I think Slughorn is waiting for us.”

 

Draco looked at Harry in surprise, “You don’t mind doing this potion?”

 

“When I have the best potion maker of the cohort as my partner? Nothing can scare me.” Harry replied drily as Draco rolled his eyes, huffing slightly.

 

“At least having the boy-who-lived- _twice_ as a partner means you’ll probably still survive even if the potion explodes in your face.” He muttered under his breath as he waltzed up towards Slughorn’s desk, talking quietly to the Professor.

 

“The Mirror of Erised…” Harry frowned thoughtfully, fingers twitching as his hand came near to his wand. Unfolding a piece of parchment, Harry finally grasped his wand, tapping it against the parchment as a wicked grin crossed his face.

 

_“I solemnly swear I’m up to no good.”_


	5. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mmmm what would Draco do with his delicious mate? Oh and his terrible co-ordination skills. Also... Can you find that Snape/Lilly inspired moment?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well well well... It feels as though it's getting even steamier~ Hopefully this satisfies all of you! However I would like my lovely readers to take note that these are all my pre-written chapters. My writing speed has slown down because life and other things I'm taking part in. Please try to bear with my updating schedules because it's going to be completely out of whack. Unfortunately. Love ya'll~~ PLEASE KEEP THE COMMENTS COMING IN; they give me life in these dark times hahahaha

** Chapter Four **

 

Harry was _late._ Draco scowled as he smoothed down his robes, huffing under his breath as he stared dejectedly at the book spread in front of him. Having been partnered with Harry for their Potions’ Assignment, Draco knew he would have no choice but to see Harry rather frequently, considering the Assignment was due in two weeks. He had propositioned to meet Harry after quidditch practice at the library, and boy wonder had immediately agreed. Only Draco’s veela instincts were treating it as a date, or in veela terms the _first step_ in the courting rituals. He had spent over an hour preening in the mirror much to the dismay of Blaise who was trying on his best robes for Longbottom. Draco had been overly excited, nervous energy thrumming about his body as he entered the library, folding himself into one of the chairs. Everything had been done to perfection, a white cashmere sweater along with dark green cotton pants and black sneakers completing his look as his blonde hair fell over his eyes. Knowing Harry James Potter, he wanted someone to look _after_ , and playing on Harry’s soft heart, though manipulative like a Slytherin, would help Draco to attract his attention tremendously. At least then, his veela instincts could be smoothed over. The only problem?

 

Harry was _missing_.

 

Finally deciding that Harry wasn’t coming, Draco could feel a sob bubbling in his chest even as he straightened his back and stood up fluidly, quickly stacking the necessary books and sweeping them into his arms. He felt so stupid, something he had been feeling a lot lately, but this one wasn’t with resignation. This one was _painful_ Draco thought as his eyes pricked with tears, nodding to Mdm Pince once before exiting the library hurriedly. It hurt to know he mattered so little to his mate, that he was easily forgotten or even worse, _rejected_. The thought sent Draco almost whimpering, cuddling the books even closer to his chest as he lengthened his strides, desperate to get to the safety of the Slytherin dungeons. There he was safe, there he could let go of his tightly controlled emotions and there-

 

And there he wouldn’t be hexed.

 

Whirling around, Draco froze on the spot, heart pounding as he wondered if his ears were hearing things that weren’t there. Lying low in the manor filled with deatheaters had taught him the art of listening for footsteps, and he could have sworn he heard muffled steps chasing after him. Could it be that someone was under a disillusionment charm? Or perhaps even an invisibility cloak? Draco’s blood ran cold and he whipped out his wand, frightened just as he felt the air almost in front of him shift.

 

“ _Stupefy!_ ”

 

“ _Protego!_ ” Harry barked out quickly, and Draco shook with relief as Harry reached out with his hand, pulling the cloak off his head in one fluid grasp. His shield charm sprang into place immediately, the stunning spell nullified against the pristine crackle of the protective shield. That relief only lasted mere seconds however, as Draco was soon overcome with mortification by his veela instincts for almost having injured his mate. _A mate that had done wandless magic artfully_ his mate hungry instincts provided.

 

“Jesus Draco, what were you _thinking_ , shouting spells out like that.” Harry scolded, frowning as he looked up at the blonde whose face shown with relief that was quickly replaced by guilt. Folding his arms, Harry was just about to scold Draco for almost cursing him and possibly leaving him for the whole night, and never to be found under his invisibility cloak when the emotion he had noticed in Draco caught up with his mind.

 

“I’m sorry…” Draco squeaked out nervously even though he was taller than Harry by a couple of inches. Fuck boy wonder, if only Draco didn’t have those instincts, he would be able to openly gloat over the fact. Now though, his veela instincts were running havoc for having almost accidentally hurt his mate, similar to when he had been pinned in the Great Hall by Harry’s stare. Shuffling backwards, Draco felt his head tilt downwards involuntarily as he cowered under Harry’s presence, the books now placed protectively over his chest. For someone taller than Harry, Draco looked astonishingly vulnerable, frightened, and Harry felt a surge of protectiveness along with sadness. He remembered when Draco had appeared like this, and his mind flashed back to the meeting in the Great Hall where Draco had stammered out replies.

 

“Draco… Have people been hurting you?” Harry asked softly, taking a step closer while he casted lumos with his wand, fixing his eyes on Draco

.

“N-No. N-No one has hurt me! They w-wouldn’t dare!” Draco answered haughtily, but still he refused to look at Harry which made the other boy almost sigh aloud. It was obvious Draco was lying, and his behaviour, eyes downcast and arms wrapped protectively around himself showed it all.

 

“Draco, _look at me_.” Harry uttered firmly and gently, arms akimbo as he waited for the blonde to lift his head. Grey eyes darting upwards, Harry wanted to howl in frustration as they quickly slid away. Huffing under his breath, Harry’s left hand reached up and without thinking he forced Draco to look at him in the face, green eyes glittering.

 

Draco’s eyes widened with shock as he felt the warm calloused palm of Harry touch his chin before yanking it up. It was intimate as Draco felt himself get man handled, finally forced to look at Harry’s intense emerald eyes, darker and infinitely more beautiful than the manor’s gardens. There were times Harry had looked at him like this, and it took all of Draco’s will power not to squirm and to fight the growing blush on his cheeks. He remembered those dreams all too well, and still, Harry’s hand refused to be dropped from his chin, the warmth permanent and those fingers strong and sturdy.

 

“I’m going to ask you again. _Have people been hurting you?_ ” Harry questioned, voice low. The surge of protectiveness he felt was still here, but now it was mixed with the desire to bend Draco over the nearest surface. The look of surprise, the feel of his soft skin against his fingers and Draco’s wide innocent gaze was doing things to him he should not be proud off. It was intimate, personal as he stood inches away from Draco.

 

“Yes.” Draco answered breathlessly, choking as he tried to slide his gaze away, only to feel Harry’s fingers tighten, forcing him to look back at him. Draco was tempted to squirm, but those green eyes captured him and rendered him unmovable, as did the tightening of his pants.

 

“Who.” One pointed growl as Harry’s eyes flashed had Draco breathing in sharply, wincing as he tried to look away.

 

“Not many-”

 

“ _Draco._ ” Harry spoke, his tone warnful as he tightened his hold on Draco’s chin, forcing the blonde to meet his gaze once more, “Do _not_ make me back you against the wall.”

 

 _What the bloody fuck?_ Draco felt his pupils dilate, wings behind him flickering excitedly. Potter, no, Harry, oh for fuck sake, _Potter_ should not be allowed to say things like that _fuck_. All his blood was running down South and Draco could feel his feet shift slightly in an attempt to offer himself less pressure.

 

“Answer me.” Harry murmured, tone becoming cajoling as Draco stared at him frozen, wondering if he had frightened the blonde. As much as he did want to snog Draco, he needed to know the bullies hurting Draco even more so.

 

“A f-few Ravenclaws. One or two H-Hufflepuffs.” Draco finally squeaked out as he attempted to calm his raging lust. Of all things, Potter just had to be an oblivious dirty talker. Just wonderful. It would have such a great effect on his libido _fuck_.

 

“You’re not telling me everything.” Harry tilted his head, frowning as he looked at Draco, “I want to know all of them. This is upsetting me Draco.”

 

At the word ‘upsetting’, Draco felt a lurch in his chest that he was making his mate annoyed by holding back information. Along with it came an aching delight that Harry was showing care, maybe even concern for him as a mate, even if it was probably all Gryffindor kindness in the end. Squeezing his eyes shut, Draco whimpered out the remaining words, “Mainly Gryffindors, fourth years. They’ve been hurting some of our first years too.”

 

“Good boy.” Harry murmured and Draco felt his veela instinct croon at the praise, his eyes fluttering open to meet Harry’s own gaze. He could feel himself flush, feel his wings ache to unfurl and clasp protectively around his shoulders and display himself for Harry’s judgement. However, in the split second that Draco basked under Harry’s praise, it was _also_ the same second he remembered _why_ he was out so late in the first place.

 

“You!” Draco hissed, eyes flaring as he pulled himself to his full height, much to the amusement of Harry who blinked rapidly back at the blonde, astonished at the sudden change in behaviour.

 

“Yes…?”

 

“You didn’t show up! Even after I was courteous enough to ask for a meeting after your quidditch practice! It’s your fault I’m out so late and almost hexed you!” Poking Harry’s chest accusingly for emphasis as he towered over the boy-who-lived, Draco tried to curb his anger as he spoke; only to find himself heading towards a full blown tantrum.

 

“I waited there for almost an hour! How could you be late? You didn’t even send a note or an owl!” Draco knew he sounded like an annoyed lover being dumped on a date that _technically_ wasn’t a date, but well, semantics. Besides, even this behaviour was too much for Harry. Frowning at him, Draco glowered, arms still tight around his books.

 

“I’m sorry.” Harry chuckled, shaking his head at Draco’s whinging, running his hands awkwardly through his hair. He could tell a full Malfoy tantrum was coming on, judging from how Draco was scowling at him

 

“ _Sorry?_ That’s all you have to say? That’s all he says after _standing me up_ for an _hour_?” Draco snapped, eyes glinting as he worked himself up into a right fit, “After waiting in the library, looking through material for _our_ assignment by _myself_ thank you very much and all that the _prat_ can offer is a-”

 

“Merlin’s pants Draco, you’re not even wearing a robe!” Startled by Harry’s interruption, Draco was momentarily side tracked as Harry looked at him in alarm. Not quite sure what he was looking at, Draco was just about to voice his question when Harry swept off his outer robe, quickly wrapping them around Draco’s shoulder while his hands grabbed Draco’s satchel and books. Surprised, Draco did what any confused, previously livid person would do. He put on the damn robe.

 

“I’m sorry for being late Draco. Why didn’t you put on a robe? It must have been freezing in the library and bloody hell these books weigh a ton! You’ve got goose bumps everywhere. I’m really sorry.” Harry offered as Draco finally finished slipping on his robe. Harry’s scent was pleasant, clean and his apology was of acceptable standards.

 

“Well,” Draco sniffed, looking away, “Since you _gallantly_ offered your robe to keep me warm, I guess it counts as a passable apology. Now walk me back to the dungeons and we can call it a night. We’ll just have to meet up some other time.”

 

“Actually,” Harry coughed discreetly, smirking as he looked up at Draco, “I was late because I was planning something. How do you fancy a night walk around Hogwarts?”

 

“After hours?” Draco squawked, glaring at Harry, “That’s against the school rules!”

 

“Didn’t stop you from spying on Hagrid and getting us into detention.” Harry reminded Draco, eyes sparkling with glee.

 

“That was _one_ time. _One time!_ And I’m freezing. Do we really have to-”

 

“I told you that I’ll tell you how I knew about the Mirror of Erised but not Traeh Serised right? Do you want to find out or not?” Harry asked patiently, raising an eyebrow at Draco, watching as the blonde fidgeted before giving in.

 

“Fine, but you’re carrying my satchel while I hold the books.”

 

“Okay. Now get under the cloak.”

 

Draco paused just as he was about to enter, poking his head out as he narrowed his eyes at Harry, “And if you step on my toes, I will personally hex you.”

 

“Me? I’m perfectly co-ordinated!” Harry squawked, looking offended as he frowned at Draco who had turned invisible under the cloak.

 

“Yeah,” Came the muffled reply, “Tell that to someone who _hasn’t_ seen you dance.”

 

Harry rolled his eyes before joining Draco under the cloak, all the while lips turned up at the corners. Underneath, it was cozy and Draco felt his heart stop again as their eyes met, lips inches away, invading each other’s personal space. It was broken when Harry turned away, shifting closer so their shoulders brushed.

 

“Potter-”

 

“Harry.”

 

“… Harry, our _feet_ can still be seen.”

 

“I know that! It’s part of the experience.” Harry scowled before beaming as he looked up at Draco, “You’re going to _love_ what I found.”

 

“You find things like hocruxes, a basilisk, a three headed dog which I _don’t_ know if it’s true-”

 

“It is. Hagrid calls him Fluffy.” Harry interrupted cheerfully as Draco just stared at him, wondering if his mate’s brain had short circuited.

 

“Exactly. That’s why _pardon me_ if I don’t exactly _swoon_ with excitement when you say you’ve found something I would love-”

 

“Draco.” Harry sighed, interrupting as he looked at the blonde, “Do you trust me?”

 

 _What a loaded question!_ To this, how should Draco Malfoy answer? _Absoloutely_ because you are the mate to my veela instincts and Draco is _seconds away_ from jumping Harry’s bones? Or should he go for the _more tentative_ you saved the world so of course I trust you? Or the more sensible answer along the lines of _no you insufferable prat?_

 

“Depending on the situation.” Draco answered truthfully, earning him a stab in his ribs for his attempt at being honest.

 

“I mean do you trust me with your _life_. Git.” Harry muttered, looking down all of a sudden. Draco could feel the tightening in his chest and almost remember what it was like in the room of requirement. With the heat raging, almost melting his skin, the flames licking at every corner, the loud screams that sometimes he swore sounded like Crabbe’s voice. The way he had clung tight, fingers wrapped around the objects, tears falling from his face and then looking up to see Harry, arm out stretched, their rivalry gone. Arms wrapping around his waist, body quivering as monsters of red, orange and yellow chased after him, howling at being cheated out of another soul meant for Hell. Gulping slightly, somehow knowing this was an important moment, Draco turned his face to look at Harry, voice stuck in his throat.

 

“Always.”

 

Hesitating, Draco inclined his head, silently asking Harry back the same question. For a minute, Harry’s face turns stricken, eyes unfocused before they narrow in, focusing on Draco. For the love of Snape… Confused, Draco waited with bated breath as Harry laughs quietly, breathy little chuckles as he locks eyes with Draco again, expression fond.

 

“Always.”


End file.
